


Witch in a Pinch

by Mutant_Toad



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mutant_Toad/pseuds/Mutant_Toad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a young witch to do when the leader of her clan goes insane?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

People should have been looking at her strangely, but they weren't. For the time of the year, she was dressed rather strangely. Looking like something out of a Disney Halloween movie from the nineties. They didn't seem to question the thick, heavy, emerald green cloak hanging over her shoulders; despite the fact that it was blistering hot this summer. There wasn't even a drop of sweat on her brow, which was shaded by the hood of her cloak.

As she walked quickly down the sidewalk, flashes of her mid-calf, Granny Style black boots showed. Thin fingers clutched the sides of her cloak and the ruby red dress beneath, holding both up enough to prevent tripping and showing bits of her striped black and white socks. Even though people didn't take second glances at her, they did reached out and snatch their children out of the way as she passed. Clinging to them as if she might reach out and whisk them away.

Occasionally, a man would look at her bone white face and stare for a moment before being scolded by their wives or girlfriends and walking off in shame. It wasn't that the bits of her face that showed through the hood were overly attractive. If anything, she would be an average girl had she been dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes. The fact of it was that they stared at the bright red lips and the pale skin being framed by jet black hair. It was the entirety of her appearance that caught their attention and brought fantasies to their minds.

The reason her appearance did not shock them or surprise them was because they had grown used to it. She wasn't the first of her type to pass through here. No. Her family had been living here since the town was founded. Back then, they were known as harlots and whores. Mostly because that was the kind word to use. The more common term for her family these days was 'witch'. Only the children said that though. Their parents simply called them strange.

Much like all fairytale creatures, the children of the small town seemed to have in-depth knowledge of these so called witches. Stories of children going missing, being eaten, having their souls taken away, and the witches being the cause of it all were constantly passed around the playground and park. As the children got older, they just seemed to forget those stories and believed the women to just be weird as their parents had. Just as they learned to realize that the there was no Tooth Fairy, that there was no Santa, no Easter Bunny, no Sandman, and no Jack Frost. These were things of the imagination, so were witches.

No, to the adults of the town, these women weren't witches. They were two spinster women raising a niece who had lost her parents. It was common opinion that it was awful of these two women to raise the girl in their image, but that was no business of theirs. If they wanted to raise her to dress strangely, pick flowers in the middle of the night, and dance in the moonlight; well that was their business and no one else.

Currently, the young woman passed her way through the town and marched up a dirt path towards the wooded area at the edge of the town. There was an old house just at the edge of the trees. Again, it looked like something out of a Disney Halloween movie. It was two stories tall, thin and narrow, and probably should have been knocked down a good fifty or sixty years ago. The blue paint was chipping and the stone steps were cracked and breaking around the edges. Out of the old chimney billowed black smoke. There was always smoke coming from the chimney, even in the middle of the hottest of summers.

The gate blew open and crashed against the fence as she came up, even though not a leaf on a single tree moved to signal that there was wind. It slammed itself back shut as she passed through it. As the heels of her boots hit the stepping stones, it sounded like mini-cracks of thunder. The wood of the porch creaked and strained, as if having trouble supporting her minimal weight, it then swelled as her fingers touched the wood rail, as if soaked with a heavy rain.

The front door slammed open the same as the gate and slammed shut just the same as well as she walked into the old house, “Someone's in a foul mood. Best be calming yourself, Darling, you'll put a hole in the floor like when that boy dumped you three years ago,” of course those words seemed to make the walls shake and the elderly lady who spoke them righted a painting on the wall, “I mean it, Abby, I won't have you wrecking our home because you can't control yourself,” it was hard to tell her age. In some lights, she looked no older than thirty, but in other lights, she looked hagged and wretchedly. The only constant in her appearance was the frizzy mounds of red hair that hung around her thin face. That and the piercing gray eyes that sent shivers down the spines of every child in town.

“Abby, are you home? I thought I heard thunder. Did that girl at the store call you a slut again?” another, more bubbly, voice called out from down a hallway, “You have to learn to brush those things off. I wish people would go back to using more creative terms. Harlot has such a better ring to it,” the voice got closer and a much shorter, plump woman appeared wearing a bright red apron over her dress. She looked less scary than the red haired woman, but if anyone asked the town children, they were more scared of her. After all, they said she was the one that liked to cook children and eat them with her afternoon tea.

The dark haired girl looked at her Aunts with a glare in her gray eyes, “Was anyone going to tell me?”

“Tell you what, Darling?” the red headed woman asked calmly as she walked over to stoke the fire. The house was burning hot, but none of them seemed phased by it. If anything, they were still cold, “I could have sworn we told you we were going out of town next week for the summer gathering. I thought you didn't want to go. Have you changed your mind?”

“Not that,” she hissed, “Why did I have to find out from a crow? And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about...” but the two women didn't speak, they simply glanced to each other before looking back to their niece, “Jack Frost?”

“Ohhhhh!” the plump one exclaimed before walking over to a cupboard and pulling out several bottles and cupping them in her apron, “We didn't think it important. I didn't even remember it till you mentioned it, Abby. It's nothing to do with us.”

“Yes, Darling, we've told you before, the actions of the Guardians and the Man in the Moon do not concern us. They stay out of our business and we stay out of theirs. We swear our loyalty to the Earth and to balance. Which is why I think you should go to the gathering next week with us. You're of age, Darling. This year is important to us. The old treaty is over this Halloween and it must be discussed how things will be handled for the next fifty years.”

“I hope it goes in our favor this year. I'm tired of eating like a rabbit,” the plump woman licked her lips before heading back towards the kitchen, “No matter how many spices I put in those vegetable soups, the mushrooms never taste as good as a plump child.”

The red head rolled her eyes a bit, “The other side has been the ruling party for fifty years now. We'll need every one we can get from our side there to change the balance of power for our people.”

“Balance?!” she stomped her booted foot a bit, “How are the Guardians not part of the balance? You told me yourself that the head of the clans right now is in league with them. That she consults them on her decisions. You think that them having a new Guardian won't affect us? My mother was put to death because she broke the treaty and decided to be what she is. Frost was neutral. He is the bringer of a season. His picking a side changes things.”

“Darling, please calm down, if you put a hole in my floor again, I will punish you,” she threatened before pointing to a dusty, high backed chair, “Sit,” she ordered and Abby seemed to struggle a bit before stumbling a bit and falling into the chair, “You're going to come to the gathering with us so you can see how things really work in our world. The current leader may consult the Guardians, but they do not control us. The Man in the Moon and his Guardians have never interfered with our people,” she walked over and pushed the hood from her niece's face and leaned down close to her, “You're young and strong, we need you there. Balance states that the next fifty years belong to us. You'll see how things change.”

The young girl huffed a bit before crossing her arms, “...fine...” she submitted and her aunt finally took a step back. Even Abby knew when not to press her luck. Treaty or not, she knew her place and the punishments that could follow from disobedience.

“Good. I knew you'd change your mind,” the woman smiled and started to walk off, “Don't forget to pack your best cloak. You represent the youngest of our family and it is important that people see you as respectable.”

“...yeah...whatever...”

“Ugh, I hate when you talk like that. Be a proper lady and sit up straight,” the red head ordered as she headed from the room.

“...old hag...” she muttered before slouching down more. She didn't understand why her aunts didn't seem to understand why she was upset. Maybe they were just too old to realize how easily balance was destroyed.

***

Bonfires were lit everywhere. The noise level was almost deafening with the sound of dozens of women cackling. It was a perfect night. Clouds covered the sky and the air was perfectly crisp despite the heat of the previous week. Most of the women in the area were dressed much the same. Long dressed, pointed toed boots, and cloaks. There were a few younger girls that we dressed in modern clothing, but very few.

There was a small grouping of men, but they seemed to stay together and there was a dazed look on their faces. Like they weren't sure where they were or what was going on.

Even though most of the women were dressed similarly, there was an obvious difference between them. Abby, like her aunts, was dressed in reds, greens, and black. Where as many of the others were dressed in blues, yellows, and white. The two groups seemed to be divided. One taking one side of the field and the other taking the other. All that was passed between the two were glances and glares.

Abby parted ways with her aunts and walked till she was joined by two other girls near her age. One was a bubbly girl who seemed full of smiles in a green dress with mud brown hair hanging down past her waist. The other was a stern, highly attractive girl with short cut carrot colored hair. They took their place on either side of Abby as they headed towards the back of the gathering to get away from the crowd. Abby lead the way in her night black dress and matching cloak, “This is dull,” the red head stated before leaning against a tree.

“Yes. It is,” Abby agreed.

“I think it's kind of fun,” the brunette said with a smile.

Abby rolled her gray eyes, “Of course you do, you lack the brain cells to see what's happening,” to which the red head chuckled.

The bubbly girl tilted her head a bit in confusion, “What do you mean? The old treaty is over. It's our turn for power. That means we'll finally get to use our powers the way they were meant to be. I'm sure your Aunt will be the new head of the clan.”

Abby shook her head and pointed up at the sky, “Look. Clouds are everywhere, but the moon is full and perfectly visible. Not once since we got here at midnight has a single cloud passed over it. He's watching us. Not once since Frost took up with the Guardians has there been a night when the moon was clouded over, but those old bats...” she pointed to the gathering in front of them, “...refuse to see it. They think we're separate from the rest of the world, but we're not.”

The brunette looked up at the sky and then shook her head, “Abby, you're just paranoid. Matron wouldn't let the balance be ruined just because Jack Frost is a Guardian. We have nothing to do with children, so they have no reason to bother us.”

“You forget so quickly that our side has to feed on the souls of children to maintain our power. Do you even know why we have this gathering every fifty years?” Abby asked sternly.

The red head answered, “Cause our people can only survive without a soul for about fifty years. The longer we go without one, the more likely we are to die off,” she explained, “You know, it's sad that Frost took up with them. He was so cute.”

“Exactly...except the cute part.”

“...I still don't get it...” the bubbly girl replied and the other two just shook their heads.

The night went on and the noise level grew till an elderly woman in a white dress walked to the center and raised her hands up. Everyone went silent. Much like Abby's aunts, depending on how the light hit her, she was either highly attractive or hideously old.

“I must say, I am so glad to see so many of you here tonight. Over the past years, our kind has begun to dwindle. It's sad to see the old ways dying out, but there is still hope in the youth,” there were many young witches here tonight, “I pray for the continuing balance between our people and the Earth,” she stated with a smile, “Even though it may be the dream of a silly old woman, I still long to see the day when we have no more need for these gatherings. When our people can live together in peace. Till then, we shall continue on with the ways that have up held us for so long.”

Abby and her friends continued to stand in the back. Instead of listening to the ramblings of the woman, her gray eyes were fixed on the moon, “...what are you planning...” she whispered to herself. The wind was moving fast, but the clouds seemed determined to stay out of the way of the ball in the sky.

“As the times change, so much our ways. We need not upset the balance among our people, but we must evolve it with the times. Gone are the days when we seek marriage to continue our families. Gone are the days when we must sit over a cauldron to watch our brews. Gone are even the days when the line between good and evil is clearly cut. So many of our young girls partake in the joys and sorrows of both our people. Just last year, my own daughter chose to abandon her powers and take up the life of a mortal,” which had been quite the scandal among both sides when it happened, “As much as we need to hold onto our old ways, we must evolve them to match the times.”

Abby's eyes widened as she swore she saw one of the craters of the moon wink at her. The moon never spoke to her kind. It preferred to stay with the white witches. But she felt a shiver run down her spine and she looked to her friends, “We need to leave. Now,” she turned her back and started into the trees, only to have the red head reach out for her.

“Abby, Matron is still speaking. She's going to announce the witch from our side that's going to take power for the next fifty years.”

The black haired witch yanked her cloak free and shook her head, “Come with me or don't,” she snapped before taking off into the darkness of the trees. She could hear people behind her and turned long enough to see that it was both of her friends.

Matron's voice could still be heard clearly, being carried on the wind into the trees as she climbed over roots and ducked under branches, “In the past, we've chosen one witch every fifty years to take the lead and trust them to rule our people properly. We must not change this. What we must change is the witch who does it. It is no longer fair to pick a witch who will rule in favor of her own people. This has never brought the balance we need. What is needed is a witch who will maintain the balance of the Earth and not care for the likes of her own. That being said, I am refusing to release my control. The world no longer needs witches of darkness or light. We need witches who will protect humanity,” the noise level grew from there. Shouting could be heard and soon there were claps of thunder and screaming.

“Abby, what's going on?!” the red head snapped as she stopped to look back at where they'd come from, “Did Matron just declare herself head of the clan?”

“Keep going!” she snapped as she continued to climb through the trees.

“From this day on, any witch who opposes the protection of humanity and harms a human shall be punished as a traitor to our people!” Matron's voice rang clear over the shouting, “Your hearts will be tested and those found unclean shall be put to death!”

Abby couldn't hear Matron's voice anymore. Instead, she heard screaming and the sounds of a raging fire. The white witches were notorious for using fire as a cleansing tool. The only thing that stopped her movement was the sound of a nearby scream. She turned to see both of her friends fall to the ground. A rope of fire around their ankles as they were dragged back towards the site of the gathering. She thought to reach out for them, but a line of fire shot out from the trees towards her and she took off running from it.

Even running as fast as she could, she could feel the flames behind her. For a moment, she looked up to see the moon through the trees and in that quick second, the ground gave out below her. She fell and saw the moon above her for a moment till the flames shot down the hole with her.

For the first time in her life, she felt real fear. This fire had taken her mother. Because of this fire, her father was made to forget he ever had a wife and daughter. It was going to take her life too. Abby knew she was not pure of heart. She had no love for the mortals of this world. She had no love for anyone, not even her own kind.

It felt like she fell forever with the fire chasing down after her. Finally, she hit the ground and the breath was knocked from her body. She remembered the night when her mother was killed. Matron had found out that her mother had taken the soul of a child to extend her own life. As punishment, fire blazed through their house that night. Her and her father had come home just as the mortals had put the fire out and Abby saw them carrying the body of her mother. Soon after, Matron came for her father. Stating that it was not fair to the balance of power for a mortal man to remember his life with a witch and that he had no place in raising a witch. It was Matron who sent her to her aunts. Stating that they were proper witch who knew their place.

The fire got closer, ready to engulf her body. At the last second a cloud of black filled her sight. Abby thought she'd lost conscious or maybe this was what death felt like. But no, the black chased the fire back out of the hole and she saw the moon again. Once more, it winked before the Earth swelled shut and trapped her in the cave.

Gasping for breath, she slowly sat up. Abby knew that it wasn't her power that had chased the fire away or caused the Earth to close. Was it the Man in the Moon? Had he saved her? Why would he do that? He had his Guardians and she wasn't one of them. Nor was she a child that needed saving. If he'd saved her, why not the others? It hardly seemed fair to pick and chose like that.

Beyond wondering what had saved her, she wondered where she was. Standing slowly, she looked around. It was hard to see anything at all. It was just pitch black and she could barely even see her own hand in front of her face. Abby had been coming to this area every year since she was a child for various gatherings and thought she knew every inch of land. As far as she could remember, there were no caves. Maybe she never saw it because the entrance extended too far and was in a different area.

Reaching into the pouch hanging around her waist, she pulled out a black candle stick and a lighter. She lit the wick and tried to look around. It didn't help much. The shadows seemed to swallow up the light. Taking a few steps in one direction, she felt a shiver run up her spine. Abby thought it might be best to go the other way.

She started walking, holding the candle at an angle so as not to let the wax drip onto her hand. Her eyes searched for any form of an exit. It felt like she was walking forever and not making any progress. Fear started to well up inside of her again. What if she never got out? What if her aunts and friends were dead? What if she starved down here? What if they were alive and they never found her? Those 'what if' situations made her bite her lower lip so hard that it started to bleed.

The only thing to distract her was the sudden movement in the shadows. A large, black thing darted across her path and she jumped back a little bit. Her free hand moved quick for the pouch again, pulling out the small knife she kept in it. The blade shimmered in the candle light as another black thing darted behind her. She turned and slashed out, but caught nothing, “Who's there?!” she demanded, but her voice shook.

A deep, smooth laughter filled the tunnel and she turned in circles, slashing out at the shadows to no avail, “What wonderful fear fills the heart of a young woman,” the voice spoke out and her eyes widened.

“Show yourself!”

“Now why would I do that? So you might cut me with your little knife? I think not,” it spoke again and another black thing darted out, knocking the candle from her hand. It dropped to the ground and the flame went out instantly, “What sort of nightmares would a soul stealer have, I wonder. Oh, wait, I know. Fire. The thought of dying in a fiery pit,” as the voice continued, the shadows circled around her. Closing in closer and closer to her feet. She stepped back, pressing her back to the dirt wall as the shadows took on the form of black flames. Rising up and threatening to cave in on her, “It's not often I get to taste the fear of an adult, much less a witch.”

“You know what I am, so back off!” she growled as she slashed at the shadows. They broke apart around the blade, only to reform. One actually reached out and touched her. Even though it was a shadow, it felt burning hot on her hand, as if it were a real fire. She dropped the knife in a gasp and pulled her hand close to her chest.

“I have nothing to fear from witches. Pathetic little women who grovel at the Earth's whims. Boasting that they care for the balance of the world while they fight amongst themselves for power. You didn't even stay to help your family or friends. You abandoned them because you feared what might happen to you. A selfish little witch who fears fire.”

The voice stopped and the shadows roared like a blaze in her ears. Abby couldn't take it anymore. She fell to the ground, covering her head with her arms and began to cry, “Let them die! I don't want balance! I want power!” she screamed.

The silence was sudden and quick. She cracked her eyes open to see that the shadows were gone. It was even light enough for her to see a bit now. All of the black flames were gone and standing in there place was a man. Tall and slender. Cloaked in black as she was. Short, black hair stuck out from his head. Black rings circled his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His skin was the color of ash. His face was long and narrow and even through the darkness of the tunnel, she could see his eyes. They glinted yellow like the moon for a moment, but as he took a step towards her, they changed to silver.

“I...I know you...” she managed to get out as she scooted back against the wall of the tunnel. She clutched her knees to her chest as he stepped towards her.

“Oh? You do? Who am I?” he said with a smile.

“You're...” she started and swallowed hard, “You're the Boogeyman.”

His smile twisted into something sinister as he leaned down, “That's right, Little Witch,” shadows rose up from his feet, “Boo!” he shouted, his voice echoing loudly as she covered her head with her arms again and screamed as the shadows came down on her.


	2. Chapter 2

With a small groan, she cracked her eyes open and saw that she was in some kind of gilded birdcage. It was enormous and looked as if it were meant to house a thousand birds. Even though the bars were close together, she climbed to her feet and tried to squeeze her body through the cracks to no avail. Sighing, she walked a circle around the cage, seeing how large it was. She wasn’t sure what kind of birds were meant to go in here, but looking out of the cage she could see hundreds of these cages hanging from the cave ceiling.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where she was, but she was just a little confused about it. The gathering, the moon, the fire, and the Boogeyman. This had to be his lair. She'd heard about it. In the back of the minds of all the people in the world, they knew this place. It was where the darkness under their beds as children led. Even as they grew up and told their own children that there was no monsters under the bed, they all knew they had feared it once too. Feared looking under and being dragged into it.

Abby sighed as she sat down on one of the perches and tightened her cloak around herself. It was freezing down here. She was cold by nature and did everything she could to keep warm, but she'd never been somewhere this cold before. Witches of her kind were cold blooded by nature and so constantly were trying to warm up.

It was hard to tell how long she sat there staring at the other empty cages hanging around her, but finally, she grew tired of it. She stood and grabbed the bars of the cage, “I know you're out there!” she shouted, “I'm not scared of you!”

“Oh really?” his voice seemed to come from every direction and she started circling the cage frantically trying to find the source, “You could have fooled me for all the screaming you did,” his voice chuckled before continuing, “Oh, please, don't kill me! Please, please!” he said in a high pitched voice, mocking her, “Don't let the fire burn me! Please don't let it get me!”

“Shut up!” she snapped, “I didn't say those things!”

“Oh, but you did, Little Witch. In your sleep. In your nightmares. You told me all of your fears. I must say, I'm mildly impressed,” he came out of the shadows, standing below her cage and smiling up at her, “I was under the impression that your kind were fearless, but you, oh you...” he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip lightly as if cherishing this moment, “You have fear. Beautiful, fiery fear.”

“I'm not a child,” she growled down at him, “My fear means nothing to you.”

His laughter filled the cave and echoed loudly as his shadow enlarged. It moved up towards the cage and she took a step back as it slipped between the bars. His body formed from the shadows and he stepped towards her quickly. Stumbling back, she fell onto the perch and clutched at it, “What do you know about me, Little Witch?”

Abby knew the answer, but somehow she felt like she was going to be wrong. No one asked a question like that if they weren't positive the person being asked was going to be wrong, “You're the Boogeyman...” she stated.

“And what does that mean?” he asked with a disgusted twitch to his lips.

“You scare children at night...”

“Aaaannnnddd?”

Abby wasn't sure what else to say. It surprised her how little she actually knew about him. He was the Boogeyman. What else was there? Children had nightmares and their parents told them that they weren't real, “You create nightmares?”

“Bingo!” he exclaimed and she jumped a little, “Do you have nightmares, Little Witch?”

“Y-yes.”

“If I create nightmares, then why would you have them if all I wanted was the fear of children?”

It was a good question. If all he wanted was the fear of children, then why would the nightmares continue on to adulthood? He made a good point, “I don't...I don't know...”

“The fear of a child is simply the strongest type of fear. It takes less to scare them and they are so pure of heart that it makes their fear that much stronger. The fear of an adult is minuscule compared to that of a child. The last time an adult could see me was during the Dark Ages. I must say, this is quite exciting. I've forgotten how the fears of an adult feel,” he stepped towards her again, his body hovering over hers.

“I'm...I'm not...scared...” she managed to get out as her fingers clutched onto the perched, her knuckles turning more bone white than they were before.

“Of course you’re not. A good witch never admits fear. Do they?” he smiled as she shook her head, “What a good little witch you must be.”

Abby got it now. He was screwing with her head. He admitted it when he said he'd forgotten how adult fear feels. He was trying to get a rise out of her. He wanted her to cower before him, “No. I'm not,” she said lowly before looking up at him. He could only scare her if she let him, “Being scared of fire isn't a fear. It's nature. Fire burns and destroys. Even you're scared of it, I'm willing to bet,” she started to stand and he stepped back, “Do you know why you can't get fear from my kind, Mr. Boogeyman?”

“I'm willing to bet that you're going to tell me,” he teased and folded his hands behind his back.

“Because we embrace those fears. We use them. You want to scare a witch, go find one of those sniveling little white witches,” her aunts had taught her why they used the souls of children. It was the same reason he scared them. They were stronger than the souls of an adult, “When a child is scared, they give up more easily. We use the fear you give them to our advantage. You're just a tool for us to use. We're stronger than you. Everyone forgets the Boogeyman, but no one forgets a witch,” she saw anger flash across his features, “They see us every day. Even if they don't believe in us, they still see us and acknowledge us. You're just a silly story. My kind always outlive the white witches, all thanks to you. They feed on the happiness of children, but we feed on the fears of children, just like you do. Except, thanks to you, we don't have to do the work. You're just a tool. If you didn't exist, we could still survive. You simply make it easier for us. You're a convenience.”

He stood silently for what felt like forever. His eyes covered in shadow as he looked down at the floor of the cage. Finally, he looked up and stared her down with his silver eyes, “Pretty cocky for a witch who is all alone.”

“I don't need anyone and you can't blame a girl for trying.”

“I watched it happen. What that woman did. In your nightmares and last night. She killed your mother when you were six and she killed your friends last night,” so they were dead, “Your aunts too. That woman, she rounded them up like cattle for the slaughter. None of you had fed in fifty years, some of you have never fed in your short lives. They were all helpless and weak. Some got on their knees and begged for mercy as the fire blazed around them. She only left the weakest alive. A handful of girls your age who swore their loyalty to her who couldn't cast a spell to save their lives,” he was doing it again. He was trying to get in her head, “You could have saved them. That's why she wanted you dead. Why go after a single witch who has never fed before unless she has reason to fear you.”

“What you're doing, it won't work. What I said last night, I meant it. Let them die. I had no ties to any of them,” Abby had no reason to lie to the likes of him. The day Matron took her mother and father away, she had no reason to trust any of her own kind. Her aunts took her in as a burden to them. They treated her as an adult, as someone who could take care of herself, “Like you, they are just tools to be used. Witches are strongest when they are together. As you said, I must be different, because why would Matron go out of her way to try and part me from my so called friends and drag me back if I was just another weak little witch. If you know my nightmares, then you know why she took my mother's life. Don't you?”

The shadows from the cage bars started to stretch out towards her. Unlike last night, she was determined to stand her ground. They touched her feet and slowly started to creep up her body as he started to speak, “Yes, I do. She broke the balance between the two groups by feeding. You watched as she lured three children into the house and you watched as she sucked the lives from their bodies.”

“It wasn't the first time she'd done it. My mother was sentenced to death before I was even born. She fed while pregnant with me. A monstrous woman with an unsatisfiable appetite. Our laws prevented Matron from harming a pregnant woman, witch or not. Our family evaded them for six years after I was born. Do you really think her feeding while I was in her belly didn't have an affect on me?” she smiled raised a heeled foot, fighting against the shadow that tried to keep her rooted to the floor. She slammed it back down on the floor, the heel making the sound of thunder cracking, “Your shadows may be able to heat up like fire, but I know they aren't fire. You caught me off guard last night. It won't happen again,” she took a step towards him, even as the shadows tightened around her ankles, “My nightmares empower me. They remind me who I am. The fear strengthens me.”

“Is that so?” he smirked as the shadows wrapped higher up her body, tightening around her legs and waist. Clinging to her body.

“Yes, it is.”

“Do you think you're the first to say something like that? Horror writers credit my nightmares all the time. Flattery gets you nowhere with me,” he smiled again and the shadows behind him stretched above their bodies, grabbing onto the cage and shaking it violently. She gasped as the shadows wrapped together and forced her legs together. They held her tight as the cage shook and threw her back into the cage bars. The whole thing turned sideways. He clung to the floor of the cage like a bat as her hands slipped through the bars and she was forced to lay on her back against them. He hovered over her, walking closer turned horizontally till he was toe to toe with her, “I'll tell you what. If you can get out of here on your own, with the strength of your fear, you will be free to go. I won't stop you,” he pointed off to the distance towards a small hole, “That will take you home.”

Abby stared up at him wide eyed, “You'll really let me go if I can get out of this cage?”

“Of course. I might not be a man of my word to most people, but you amused me,” he reached over and brushed from of the hair from her face, his fingers felt like ice and she shivered, “Now, if you'll excuse me, it's almost bedtime on the eastern coast,” the cage was suddenly released and she fell to her knees as it rocked back and forth dangerously. His body passed through the bars easily as he floated back to the ground, “Just so you know, if you don't manage to get out, you'll be stuck in there forever.”

Abby crawled over to the edge of the cage and watched him disappear into the darkness of the cave. She quickly got to her feet and started rattling the cage door, “Dammit!” she screamed in a fit of anger when it refused to budge.

Practically tearing the pouch from her body, she dumped the contents on the floor and started shifting through them. Her knife was gone and she remembered dropping it the night before. There were a few small candles of various colors, her lighter, a few bottles of oils, some dried flowers that had been left in there and crushed to dust over the years, a ball of twine, a bottle of sea salt, some stones, and triskele pendant long broken off from its chain, “Useless,” she groaned as she shoved it all to the side.

She sat, nearly pouting, for hours. Just staring at the objects from her pouch. Why hadn't she packed things that were more useful? Why didn't she take a second dagger with? Hell, why didn't she even put a bobby pin in her bag? It was useless to think about that though. It wasn't like she could go back and change time.

Sighing, she picked through the stones she had. Maybe one would be big enough to smash the lock with, “Lapis Lazuli, Tiger Eye, Citrine, Garnet, Prehinite, Carnelian...” she muttered the names of them as she picked through the small pile.

“Wait a minute!” she snapped, “I'm a witch! He can't keep me in here!” she growled as she grabbed the twine and unrolled two feet of it. She burned it off from the roll with her lighter and started twisting the stones up in it like she was making jewelry. She twisted the orange carnelian, the blue lapis, the yellowish tiger eye, the canary yellow citrine, and the green prehinite up in the twine.

She then grabbed up the bottle of Frankincense oil and uncorked it before picking up some of the crushed flowers and herbs from the bottom of her bag. She sniffed them, “Allspice,” she said softly as she poured the oil into her cupped hand and rubbed the herb and oil together. She picked up the twine, now embedded with the stones, and soaked it with the oil mixture in her hand. It was messy, but she didn't seem to mind. She made sure the twine and her hands were well coated before climbing to her feet and heading towards the cage door again.

One hand held the oiled up twine and the other drew a less than symbol on the cage locking device. She then wrapped the twine up around her knuckles and took a deep breath, “Vos postulo ut patefacio. Audieritis me,” she said in a soft voice before slamming her fist down into the lock. The stones cracked against the metal and she felt a pain shoot up her arm, “Vos postulo ut patefacio. Audieritis me,” she said it again while pulling her fist back and slamming it back into the lock. More pain shot up her arm, but the metal creaked, “Audieritis me,” she said more forcefully this time as her fist came down for a third time. Abby could feel blood seeping around the twine and stones, “You will listen to me!” she shouted in English as she brought her fist down for a fourth time.

This time, the lock snapped. It cracked in half and the door swung open. For a moment, she just stood there with her hand hanging at her side, blood dripping down it, and stared in amazement. She'd made the door open. Granted, she did that at home all the time to the garden gate, but that was just simple wood and it was nearly a hundred years old, not to mention that it was hardly ever actually locked. This was metal and solid, “...Ha!” she laughed loudly before reaching up to cover her mouth.

This was no time to laugh. The Boogeyman could be back at any time and decide to slam the door shut on her. Without thinking, she stepped out of the cage and remembered too late that it was hanging at least thirty feet in the air. Her hands shot out and grabbed the edge of the cage, clinging to it for dear life. Abby felt stupid now. She'd managed to get the door open, now she was going to fall to her death. She'd stood up to the Boogeyman and now she was going to die like some horrible cartoon coyote.

“Well done!” she heard his voice and craned her head to try to see him as she heard what almost sounded like sarcastic clapping.

“Got to hell!” she snapped as she kicked her feet, “I got out!”

“Technically, your finger tips are still in the cage. I'm glad I came back when I did. I had planned to stay out all night, but this is much more entertaining. Perhaps I'll let you hang there like some sort of decoration. This place could use a woman after all,” he teased, “I've always wanted a trophy.”

“Screw you!” she shouted and gasped as she felt cold shadows wrapping around the tops of her boots. Instead of climbing their way over her dress as they'd done before, she felt them slide under and touch the bare skin of her knees above her socks, “Get out of there! You pervert!” she growled and kicked her legs hard enough to make the cage swing a bit.

“Don't flatter yourself,” she heard him sneer as he appeared standing in the cage door, his feet close to her finger tips, “I have no interest in little witches,” he inspected the damage she'd done to his cage before looking back down at her, “How do you plan to get yourself out of this now? I don't suppose you can fly,” he smiled, “Or at least not without a broomstick.”

“That...” she started, “Is a horrible stereotype and you know it!” her arms were starting to hurt. Abby knew she couldn't hold on much longer.

“Well, whatever it is you're going to do, I hope you do it quickly. I do have things to take care of,” he stated with a bored tone.

She smirked up at him and saw his face twist in confusion as she smiled at him, “Fine. You want it quick,” with a deep breath, she let go of the cage. Her body screamed at her not to do it, but she pushed past that and released. His face turned to shock as she fell away from him, “I'm not scared of you,” she said as she fell.

It was her breath she felt leaving first. Every bit of air rushed from her lungs as she hit the ground. Her vision blurred as she saw him fading away from the cage door. He spoke, but all she heard was fuzzy noises. The last thing she saw before blackness overcame her vision was his silver and gold eyes looking down at her. The darkness caved in, but it wasn't the same kind that had saved her the night before. It wasn't his shadows.

Everything just melted away into black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that do not know, the poem 'Come Little Children' that I use in this chapter was written by Edgar Allan Poe. There is some debate on whether he actually wrote it or if someone simply signed his name to it. Authetication on the poem has never been done.

_Abby smiled as she listened to her mother singing. She knew what it meant. That soft, little voice calling out to the world. It meant that children were coming over to play. It was her mother's favorite poem to recite and it caused such a stir around the town. People would pull their children inside and curse at the woman as she passed through the streets singing. Till Disney stole the song and bastardized it in some silly Halloween movie, people knew it was a song to fear._

_“Come little children, I'll take thee away, into a land of enchantment. Come little children, the time's come to play. Here in my garden of shadows. Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way. Through all the pain and the sorrows,” the beautiful voice carried all through town and Abby closed her eyes, humming it softly as it carried over the trees and into her room, “Weep not poor children, for life is this way. Murdering beauty and passions. Hush now dear children, it must be this way. To weary of life and deceptions.”_

_Abby heard the door opening and the sound of feet going over the hard wood floors. She rushed from her room and sat atop the stairs, watching her mother from above. The woman stood hunched over a bit as she unfastened the buttons on the children's jackets and ushered them to sit down in front of the warm fire, “Rest now my children, for soon we'll away into the calm and the quiet,” she watched as her mother fetched glasses from the near by cupboard and filled them from a pitcher near the fire. These children were much older than the ones she usually brought home. Abby was willing to guess they were in their late teens. Perhaps the parents of the town had become to suspicious, “Come little children, I'll take thee away, into a land of enchantment.”_

_The dark haired girl watched as the teens, all with dazed looks on their faces drank the warm liquid down quickly, “Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of shadows...” this was the part that always made Abby have to close her eyes. Unlike that wretched movie, there was no peaceful glowing around the children as the witch sucked the lives from them. Instead, the glasses fell to the floor and smashed as the teens started groaning in pain._

_Abby shut her eyes for a moment till she heard a scream. They didn't usually scream. She opened her gray eyes to see her mother holding the sixteen year old girl she'd lured here in the air. She couldn't take her eyes off of it this time. Her mother's finger nails grew and sank into the poor girls body. Her mother's eyes flashed with excitement as the girl's body started to shrivel up. It was as if every drop of fluid in the teens body was being sucked away._

_She watched as her mother dropped the girl to the floor and went for the next teenager. She did the same as before and Abby watched two more bodies fall to the floor that day. Without a care for the dead, she watched her mother roll the dried up corpses to the fireplace and kick them in. The fire blazed and Abby covered her nose from the smell before running back to her room._

_Moments later, there was a loud knock on her door and her mother's soft voice asking if she could come in._

“Mom!” she sat up quickly from the bed, breathing heavy as her vision cleared. She looked around and realized she was laying in her bed at her aunts house. She knew the stuff with her mother had been a dream, even if it had really happened, but, “The Boogeyman...” as if a child again, she leaned over the edge of the bed and peeked under it. As she expected, there was nothing there.

Had it been a nightmare? Had any of it happened? The gathering, Matron, her friends, the fire. Was it all just a nightmare?

Slipping from the bed, she got her answer as she tried to stand straight. Pain shot through her whole body. Abby looked down at her hand and saw the twine still wrapped around it and dried blood clinging to the stones. It wasn't a nightmare or a dream. It had been real.

How did she end up back home? The last thing she remembered was falling out of that giant birdcage. There was no way she could have survived that fall. Witch or not, thirty feet was a long way to fall onto rocks without even the slightest of padding. Had the Boogeyman saved her at the last second? No, she remembered the pain of landing. He let her fall and hit the ground.

Limping a bit, she headed for the door, but her hand jerked back from the handle. It was burning. Then she heard the voices. There were people in the house. Something was tossed across the hallway outside her door and slammed into the wall. Someone was here and they were looking for something. Hesitantly, she pressed her ear to the door to hear what they were saying, “Find her,” she heard a voice hiss. It was Matron.

Her eyes widened as she darted back towards her bed. Abby knew she was strong and that was why Matron would likely want her dead, but she was no match for the elderly witch. She went for the window first, but saw several witches in blue cloaks standing in the way. She was in no condition to fight, “Check all the rooms!” she heard Matron shout and the door handle jiggle on her bedroom door, “Break it down!” the woman snapped.

In a panic, Abby dropped to the floor silently and crawled her way under the bed as the door burst open. She clasped her hands over her own mouth as she watched booted feet walk around her room, “She's here. I know she is. She has nowhere else to go,” Matron's voice hissed from near by, “I want every inch of this house searched now.”

A pair of pale hands poked under the mattress and Abby's eyes widened more as the mattress started to lift up. She nearly gasped as the floor below her gave out. The only thing that kept her from making a noise was an ice cold hand clasping over her mouth and the only thing that kept her from fighting was another cold hand wrapping around her waist. In the hole that appeared, she watched as the mattress flipped off the bed frame. Matron's cold face stared right down at her, but she didn't seem to see anything.

“Old witches have no reason to believe in me. Fear does not strike their hearts the way it does a child or a young adult such as yourself. So long as you are quiet, they cannot see us,” she could feel his lips near her ear and tensed up. Slowly, his hand dropped from her mouth and she turned away from Matron above them to look at him. She twisted around in his arm and glanced up at his silvery eyes.

 **'Thank you,'** she mouthed the words.

They stayed in the shadowed hole under her bed frame for nearly an hour. Not speaking. Not moving. Barely even looking at each other till she heard Matron's cursing and the sounds of the witches storming from her aunts house. They waited a few long moments before he boosted her out of the hole and she pulled herself up with the bed frame. As she had to crawl her way out, he simply rose from the darkness like a monster and stood in the center of her room.

“Why did you save me?” she asked softly as he walked over to her dresser. Every drawer had been pulled out and the contents scattered around the room. There were clothing and bottles and flowers scattered everywhere.

“Did they really think you'd be hiding in the drawers? Must not be too smart,” he chuckled.

Abby didn't like being ignored, “Why did you save me?” she asked again, more demanding this time.

“You're lucky I got here when I did. I was planning on not coming,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

Clenching her fists at her side, she felt herself getting angry, “Then why did you? Tell me.”

He shrugged his tall shoulders and picked a bottle of oil up off the floor, “You amuse me. I find you entertaining.”

Storming over to him, she snatched the bottle from his hand and started for the door, “I'm not a clown and I think you should leave. After all, you said you were busy tonight.”

“That was last night. You've been asleep for a while,” he said with a smile as he walked past her, “This is a nice house, or at least it was. I'm sure you can clean it up though.”

Abby stopped and pointed back towards the bed, “I said that you should leave.”

“That's no way to treat the man who has saved you twice. The least you could do is offer me undying gratitude or at least something to drink,” he started down the hallway and ignored as she stamped her foot on the floor, “I've saved you twice and I even brought you back home. After all, you did get out of the cage,” so he had brought her back here, “You could even say that I saved you three times. After all, that fall should have killed you,” but he didn't explain how she didn't die, “I'd say that has earned me something. A drink and a foot rub,” she heard his teasing voice as he headed down the stairs, “It's always nice to see a woman in her place at a man's feet after all.”

She growled and started after him, pushing him out of her way as she went, “The day I touch your feet is the day I kiss a toad,” she growled.

“I thought you ladies were into that sort of thing,” he teased as one of his shadows came out and grabbed her around the waist so he could walk ahead of her again. She struggled a bit before it finally released her, “I prefer tea. Nothing that needs sugar or lemon or any of that sort of stuff. English Afternoon Tea if you have it,” he ordered as the shadows released her. They made sure to keep her at bay as he walked down towards the sitting room and settled himself into the only chair not turned over.

She watched as he made himself comfortable in her favorite chair. Folding his hands in his lap and just sitting there with that smug smile on his face. She wanted to walk over and slap the smile from his face and grab him by the throat, “Get out of my chair.”

He seemed to think for a moment, “Tea first. Then I'll move. Maybe.”

Abby wasn't making tea for him. She wasn't about to do his bidding just because he'd saved her a few times. She wasn't his little servant. She was a witch and slave to no one, “No,” she walked over and grabbed the arm of the chair. Ignoring the pain that shot through her body, she lifted it up and watched the shocked look on his face as she proceeded to dump him out of it, “I said to get out of my chair.”

He glared at her as he righted himself and watched her stand beside the chair, “Aren't you going to sit in it?”

“No,” she stated.

“Then what was the point of dumping me out of it?”

“Because it's my chair and I don't want you sitting in it.”

“Isn't that a bit childish?” he smirked and she wanted to smack him again.

“Well, don't you usually prefer the company of children? Isn't that a little creepy? A man your age creeping around children's bedrooms and such,” if he was going to make fun of her, she had no problem taking shots at him, “Don't worry, I feel the same way about the Guardians,” her mother and aunts had made sure to allow any of the Guardians into her life. There was no hiding teeth under pillows. No Christmas presents. And no Easter egg hunting. The only ones that could enter into her life were the Boogeyman (who was starting to become a pain) and the Sandman. Even those two could be kept at bay if she wanted to make a dreamless sleep brew and take that every night for the rest of her life. Right now, that didn't seem like such a bad idea.

“Tsk, tsk, no pointing shame at me when your kind does the same thing. At least I don't have to kill the children to get what I want,” he smiled.

Abby had had enough of this. She was tired and sore and she wanted him out of her life, “Get out,” she growled lowly and pointed to the door, “Now,” the door blew open and moonlight poured in.

“Now, now, calm down,” he started, “I don't think we need to start blowing doors off hinges. Do all of your kind get so angry so easily? From what I've seen, all you women do is fight and get angry. So why don't you sit and we'll have a nice chat? I won't even make you get me tea, even though it's rather obvious that I deserve it.”

She stared at him, slightly confused as he said he wanted to chat. She couldn't see anything for them to chit-chat about. If anything, she knew Matron would come back for a second look and she needed to get out of here before then, “I don't have the time...” she started, but he walked over and placed a finger over her lips.

“Shhhh...” he moved towards the door and shut it, closing out the moonlight, “No reason for prying ears to hear anything,” she knew who he was talking about. Abby knew very little about the Man in the Moon and the Guardians. All she even knew about the Boogeyman was that he scared children,  
“Now sit,” he motioned to the chair.

Abby wouldn't deny being curious, even though she knew she shouldn't be listening to him. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept telling her not to get involved with him. That this wasn't part of the balance. But hadn't Matron destroyed that balance the other night? How much worse could it get just by listening to him for a few minutes? He seemed to like the sound of his own voice, “Fine. You have five minutes.”

He watched as she took a seat and positioned himself to stand in front of her, “Surely you know about Frost,” she nodded, “Do you know what they did to me?” Abby shook her head to admit that she didn't, “Let's just say they shamed me rather badly.”

“So they kicked your ass,” she said with a smirk.

He straighted out his robe before looking at her, “That's one way of looking at it. Another way is to say that they have delayed my plans.”

“And what plans are those?”

“Have you ever tired of being just a little story that parents tell their children isn't real?”

“Sure, but unlike you, it doesn't matter if they believe in me or not. If they don't believe in you, you can't touch them. If they don't believe in me, I can still hit them over the head,” she smiled again.

“Yes, well, not all of us can be so blessed,” he sneered, “I've been thinking about this since you were dangling from my cage. You want power and obviously you don't need to adhere to any rules anymore,” if Matron was out for blood, then there was no reason for her to obey the woman anymore, “Children aren't scared of me right now, because they know I cannot touch them. They know those pesky Guardians will be there to help them,” she tensed up as he dissolved into black sand. Before she could move, his hands were on her shoulders, holding her down to the chair, “But you...We can be of help to each other. That woman is not going to stop looking for you. You're going to have to fight her. You're going to have to get stronger. You make the children fear me and I will make you stronger.”

“I...”

“I can teach you to create nightmares. If a child is not scared of my nightmares, yours will scare them. Just think about it. All of the witches like you will be stronger for your efforts, including yourself. You said it yourself. A scared child is easier to feed on.”

“I don't care about the others...”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders and he leaned in close, “Then do it for yourself. When it comes down to it, the only person that matters is yourself. Your existence. Your power. Your strength,” she had to admit that he was a smooth talker.

“That all sounds well and good, but I wouldn't be doing it just for myself, now would I? You'd be there too.”

“...” he hesitated, “Yes, I would, but my affairs and yours are different. Do you really think if it came down to my life or yours I would have an issue making the choice?”

Abby nodded, “I understand, but I don't know. You're not exactly the most well known for keeping promises.”

“That I'm not. Then again, neither are witches. Why don't we just agree that should either of us feel the need to stab the other in the back, we won't hold it against each other. How does that sound?”

“I think I can agree to that, but I'm still not sure...” she wanted to see if she could get anymore out of him.

Apparently, she couldn't. The Boogeyman released her and walked out from behind the chair, “When you are sure, you know where to find me,” he stated with a bored tone of voice as he started back towards the stairs that lead to her bedroom, “Knock three times for me,” he instructed as he headed up the stairs.

Abby sat silently, going over his offer in her head. Truth be told, if Matron wasn't out for her, she wouldn't care what had happened. She may have hated the woman, but at the same time, there wasn't enough care in Abby's cold, little heart to hold a grudge over what had happened to her mother. She'd tried to warn people, but they didn't listen. It was their own fault.

The fact of the matter was that Matron was after her. As she was, she wasn't strong enough to fight the woman if it came down to it. Her mother had taught her very little. Her aunts had held onto the rules and laws of their people and only taught her the basics. Everyone that was supposed to train her and teach her was gone. The Boogeyman was no witch, but he did hold powers that were similar to their own in small ways. Could he really teach her how to create nightmares? That would be useful and unexpected to Matron.

It really wasn't a hard decision to make, but she refused to give in so easily. She refused to run to him like some kind of little girl who needed his help. Instead, she was going to make him wait at least an hour. In the meantime, she headed to the kitchen and brewed some tea. She filled a small bottle with it and corked it. Next, she headed up to her room and quietly packed a few things into her messenger bag.

Abby climbed over the bed frame and stood in the center of the frame. She stomped her foot three times and waited. Nothing happened. She waited a moment before stomping again. Once more, nothing happened. Growling, she slammed her foot so hard into the floor that the small thunder claps could be heard on the first two. As her foot came down for the third time, she gasped as the floor gave out and she fell through.

“I told you to knock. Do you think anyone likes having their doors kicked?” she heard his voice as she landed on the dirt floor.

Grumbling a bit, she climbed to her feet and looked around. It was the same bird caged cave she'd been in before, “Had I known it was your door, I would have kicked a little harder,” she snapped as she dusted herself off, “I suppose that is the thanks I get, huh?” she pulled out the, luckily unbroken, tea she'd bottled and tossed it to him, “English Afternoon?”

He perked a brow at her before smiling, “I think you might just be tolerable.”

“And I think you might have a boot up your backside, but I think I can live with that.”

“Live with,” he seemed surprised to hear that bit.

Abby set her hands on her hips and stared at him, “Yes, well, you saw the state of my aunts house. Matron will come back and she'll likely set the place on fire if she doesn't find me there. Remember, no parents and I'm sure any other family I had is either dead or don't know who I am. Plus, I don't think Matron will be looking for me down here,” she smiled lightly.

“Alright then, but you stay here,” his shadows shot out and she struggled a bit as they lifted her up and threw her back into one of the birdcages. The only difference this time was that the door didn't get locked shut.

She crawled to the edge and looked down at him, “Hey! How the hell am I supposed to get down from here?!” she was sure she wasn't going to be jumping again (or dropping).

“Learn to fly or I'll let you down when I need you,” he gave her that smug smile before disappearing into the shadows.

Huffing, she sat back on her feet and muttered to herself, “Creepy jerk. No wonder nobody likes you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Life so far in the Boogeyman's Lair was no walk in the park. At first, she thought he'd been joking about the birdcage being her home, but when at least a day past and he didn't show his face once, she realized he was being serious about it. Until he found use of her, she was stuck up here. Did he really expect her to just figure out how to fly? What sort of ridiculous nonsense was that? Sure, there was the stereotype that witches flew on broomsticks, but all stereotypes had a hint in reality at some point in time. Abby had heard of witches that used brooms, but that seemed so silly and she'd never been taught how to do it. Not to mention the fact that she didn't have a broom to even try.

There was also the fact that she was hungry and tired. It was hard to sleep down here. She had a cloak for a blanket and tried to use her bag as a pillow, but it was just so cold. Abby was used to being cold, but this was unbearable. There was also the fact that every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the fire blazing out of the roof of the house where her mother died. Food was the other big issue and so was the bathroom situation.

Abby's stomach growled loudly. She couldn't remember the last time she ate anything. Maybe it had been a mistake coming down here. Did he even need to eat or sleep? If not, what was she supposed to do?

Sighing, she crawled over to the door of the cage and looked around, “Hey! Boogeyman!” she called out for him, but there was no response. It was probably close to bedtime above ground. If so, that meant that he wasn't down here. She watched as waves of black sand rolled across the ground below her cage as it had done the night before. That had to be the source of his nightmares. Just like the Sandman and his gold sand brought dreams. The Boogeyman's black sand brought nightmares. It was an interesting concept.

“Okay...” she muttered to herself, “Gotta get down from here,” and without injuring herself this time. Standing slowly, she watched the sand. As the sand moved towards the various tunnels, it would rise up and transform into large horses. Hellish looking creatures with yellow eyes. These were his nightmares. Readying themselves for the world. Abby wondered what would happen if she landed on one of those. It was sand. Would she fall through it and hit the ground? Or would it be solid enough to catch her? She supposed there was only one way to find out.

Abby stood up and ran to the back of the cage for a moment before running towards the open door. She turned back quickly and ran towards the back again. The cage started to rock. This worked in the movies, right? Of course it would work. Movies never lied, except when it came to stories of her own people. That was right, right?

She took a deep breath as the cage rocked harder and harder each time she threw herself into the bars at the back. She kept it up as her eyes watched the nightmares. One wrong move and she would just end up flattening herself against the cave floor again. Abby just reminded herself why she was doing this, “Gotta find a bathroom,” she whispered to herself. This was of the utmost importance right now. Even if she had to crawl through one of those caves and break into someones house. She was finding a bathroom.

“Now!” she shouted to herself as encouragement as she took off towards the open door. She dove out and towards the newly forming nightmare. Abby did her best not to close her eyes. If she was going to fail, then she might as well see it coming. But no, the horse creature formed and she landed across it's back with a groan. Abby wanted to be surprised that it actually worked, but she didn't have time as the nightmare reared and started to kick. She wasn't it's master and it certainly didn't want her on it's back, “Calm down!” she yelled at it as it started to charge one of the tunnels.

She tried to slip off it's back, but it was going too fast now. Perhaps it would have just been better to pee herself in the cage. No. He would have been more than willing to mock her for it. She could imagine the bird comments already.

Abby managed to slip one of her legs around it's back and right herself. She wrapped her arms around it's thick neck as it picked up speed into the tunnel, “Oh damn...” she closed her eyes tight, all thoughts of needing to use the bathroom leaving her as the nightmare carried her. The tunnel whipped by as it picked up more speed. Abby cracked open her eyes and saw moonlight and felt cold night air starting to rush in, “Please stop!” she shouted, but the nightmare wouldn't listen to her. It had no reason to obey her. She was just some human to haunt.

It didn't stop. It shot out of the cave like a cannon and she would have screamed if it wasn't for the rush of cold air flying into her face. It flew high into the air, dozens of other nightmares following behind it. Shaking and clutching at sandy bits of the mane as she sat up slowly. She looked over the side and saw how small the houses looked below her. As they flew over the roofs, she watched some of the nightmares dive down and enter the houses. They were going to steal the happy dreams from the people living inside. Abby couldn't help but be somewhat impressed by the power it would take to control these things.

When it came down to it, there were few spirits in the world that were actually powerful. Even if all the holidays stopped, the world would always have dreams and nightmares. Abby knew that the only Guardians and Spirits that really mattered were those that were not tied to any sort of holiday. Jack Frost would always exist and be able to interact, even if there wasn't a single person to believe in him. Same went for the Sandman, the Boogeyman, and all the other season spirits. Whether people believed in them or not, it would still happen. People believing in them would simply make them stronger, but not believing wouldn't stop them completely.

The wind was cold, but it felt good on her face. She sat up straight and her cloak wiped around behind her as the nightmare flew across the sky. It felt amazing to be so high up in the air. It didn’t surprise her that there were so many stories of witches flying through the air on brooms. It wasn’t true that all witches could fly, but a number of them could. Abby wondered if she could. She’d never been allowed to try before. And even as tempting as it was, she wasn’t about to jump off the back of the nightmare to find out.

It occurred to her that she had no idea where she was flying over or where she was going. For all she knew, this creature was going to drop her in the middle of an ocean. Something told her that the creature wouldn’t respond to her, but she leaned down to try anyway, “You’re a beautiful nightmare,” she complimented it and meant what she said. The creature was gorgeous and terrifying to look at, “You’re not going to let me fall, are you? I would hate to not be able to see you work,” she wondered if the creatures could be flattered with.

It reared back and she clung to it’s mane as it huffed, shooting black sand from it’s nostrils. Abby feared the worst, but it righted itself and went back to galloping fast along the sky. It made sense that the creature couldn’t, or wouldn’t, respond to her. At least it wasn’t throwing her off.

She let it fly a bit further before trying to talk to it again. She leaned down and it’s ear flicked back into her face, “Do you think we could land?” but it shook it’s head roughly, “Please. For me?” it shook it’s head again, “Okay...how about for something shiny?” she reached down into her bag and pulled out a silver, shining christmas bell from her bag attached to a black length of cloth. She could get a new bell after all. What was important was the fact that the need to use the ladies room had returned with a vengeance.

The nightmare seemed to respond to the shiny bell and tilted its head to look at her with its shining yellow eyes, “You can have it. I’ll let you keep it. It would look so beautiful on a lady like you,” but the horse like creature reared and huffed, “Oh, uh, handsome on a man like you. Sorry,” it snorted at her, “Would you like the bell,” it’s head bobbed and she reached up to loop the fabric around the beast’s neck. As it galloped, she could hear the bell ringing, “Can we land?” but the beast shook it’s head. It was stubborn. Abby knew there was little she could do to make it listen to her.

“Does he name you?” she asked and it shook it’s head, “I’m going to call you Abastor. It’s Greek for ‘away from the stars’ and ‘deprived of light’. It was the name of one of Pluto’s black steeds. It was the fastest horse ever seen. It could even outrun a shooting start. Do you like that?” it snorted and it’s head bobbed, “So, since I gave you a bell and a name, could you land for me?”

The horse didn’t respond at first, but it finally snorted more black sand and started a downward angle towards the land below. Abby was more than happy that they were finally heading towards land. She didn’t care if she had to hide behind a bush. Her poor little bladder was ready to burst. Luckily, as they got closer, she could see town lights and even a diner. That meant public bathrooms.

They landed and she slipped from the nightmare’s back carefully, “You stay here, Abastor,” she ordered in a soft voice before taking off towards the diner. Abby was used to ignoring strange looks as she finally got to use a bathroom for what felt like the first time in days.

She came back out shortly later, straightening her dress out as she walked back to where she’d left the nightmare, “What are you doing?” she heard his voice and looked up to see him standing next to the horse creature, “And what is _that_?” he sneered as he pointed to the bell.

“What I’m doing is none of your business and that is a bell. Abastor likes it.”

“Abastor?”

“That’s his name,” she stated as she walked over and pat the sandy beast on the nose, “It’s Greek. It was the fastest of Pluto’s four mythological night-steeds. It could outrun the stars,” she watched him roll his eyes as she walked around to climb back on his back.

“What do you think you are doing?” he stated again, more forcefully this time.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting back on the horse.”

“It’s not a horse, it’s a nightmare.”

“And it has a name. Abastor. And he’s a handsome nightmare, aren’t you?” she cooed down at the creature as she pat it’s side lightly.

He walked over, shaking his head, “They don’t have genders. They are creatures to be feared, so don’t baby talk it.”

Abby ignored him though. She scratched the nightmare behind the ear, bits of black sand falling around her fingers, “But he likes it. Don’t you, Abastor. Such a perfect little nightmare. Yes you are,” she cooed.

“Get off. Get off now. That’s not how you treat a nightmare,” he ordered.

Once again, she ignored him and laid down against the creature’s back, rubbing her head against it’s neck lovingly, “You’re my handsome nightmare, aren’t you, Abastor?” the horse snorted and bobbed its head, the bell around its neck jingling lightly, “That’s a good nightmare.”

“That’s it. This is done,” he walked in front of her and the nightmare and waved his hand. Abby gasped as the nightmare dissolved below her and she landed face first on the ground. The little bell chimed as her fingers touched it on the ground as she started to sit up.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded as she climbed to her feet and dusted the sand from her dress.

“I sent him to do his job. He’s a tool, not a toy,” he started to circle her, “If you want to become stronger, you will do well to remember that. Do you think that woman is going to sit around and wait for you to baby talk your tools before she sets you on fire? Because I don’t,” no, Matron wasn’t going to wait. Abby knew that.

“...no, she wouldn’t,” she admitted to him.

“Glad to hear you understand. You’re a sorry excuse for a witch,” to which she glared at him and stamped her foot, “All you do is push yourself as hard as you can and get nothing for it. All because you would rather play games about it.”

“You do realize that we’re not in danger right now, right? And that I busted my knuckles getting out of your damn cage. I’m pretty sure I broke the cage tonight getting out.”

“Yes, but how much time and energy did you waste? You’re a witch, but you didn’t use any of your gifts. Even breaking out the other night, you relied on cheap tricks and nearly killed yourself. You’re a witch, use that instead.”

Either he didn’t realize or didn’t care, probably the not caring part, that she’d not been allowed to use any of her actual abilities. She’d never fed and all she could do was the little tricks, as he called them. Blowing open doors and making little thunder cracks was all she’d ever been allowed, “I case you didn’t remember, I haven’t been trained on how to do much.”

“And who is at fault for that? Don’t make excuses for your shortcomings. No one was stopping you.”

“I had to follow the rules,” she snipped back. Tiring of his hawk like circling, she pushed past him and leaned against a nearby tree.

“And why was that? Was someone holding a knife to your throat? Or did they simply tell you not to do it? It’s your own fault for not preparing yourself. Don’t blame others for that,” what he said made a lot of sense, but it also made her upset. He didn’t know how things were with her people.

“Big talk from a guy who got his ass handed to him,” she snapped.

His eyes darkened and he moved close to her. Towering over her as he stared her dead in the eyes, “I prepared for centuries. Don’t speak about things you have no knowledge of.”

Abby would be lying if she said he wasn’t imposing, but she wasn’t going to let him get in her head, “Same goes for you, Boogeyman. For all you think you know, there is a lot more that you don’t. So I suggest you backoff,” she growled before shoving her hands into his chest and moving away from the tree, “You prepared for centuries, good for you. Yet, still, even with that. You lost. So maybe the way you do things, isn’t good enough,” his face hardened and she watched him clench his fists, “Don't be so uptight about it. I'm not insulting you. It's just that, maybe, you need to change the way you do things. You might get better results.”

His eyes narrowed, “What do you suggest?”

Abby smiled as she moved in front of him, her hands moving up and straightening the collar on his robe, “Well, I'm human. I don't know what you are or what those Guardians are, but I know none of you are human,” at least they weren't anymore. The rumor was that they had all been people at some point, “Those pesky Guardians have no say in my actions,” at least so far as she knew, “Why don't you do what you promised? Teach me to create nightmares. The Guardians can stop you from doing it and hinder you, but they can't make me do anything. Let children fear you through me. All you've done so far is belittle me and throw me in cages. Why not try doing something different?” before he could answer, she continued, “You said that was what you were going to do, but you haven't made a single move to do so. I told you that witches use the fear you create as a tool. That you were just a tool for us. Why don't you use me as a tool for a while?”

He tilted his head back, looking up at the moon before looking down at her again, “That does sound nice. I suppose I did promise to teach you how to make nightmares. It would be good to have a minion.”

“Assistant,” she corrected, “Companion. Co-Worker.”

“Technicality. We don't need to worry about what your title is,” he waved his hand, pushing past her, “They can protect the children from my nightmares and fears, but they can't touch you,” she rolled her eyes as he made it sound like it was his revelation and she hadn't said that very thing just moments before, “Very well.”

“Good. Now...can I have my horse back?” she smirked and held up the bell Abastor had been wearing.

He eyed her for a moment, “Not tonight. It's almost sunrise. Follow me,” he stated before heading into the trees.

Abby sighed and followed after silently.


	5. Chapter 5

It only took a week of her being in his lair for them both to realize it wasn’t going to work. For one, she needed things that he didn’t. Like food and sleep. He was unwilling to change his home to accommodate her in any way. There was also the fact that the more they saw each other, the more they wanted to strangle each other. They decided that perhaps it was best if she was not holed up in his caves when not actively assisting him in something. Instead, they found a cabin hidden in the shadows of some woods. When she first saw it, she made a comment about being like a bad horror movie.

It was old and she was sure if she jumped hard enough that the floor would cave in. Despite that, it worked. She spent her days in the cabin, mostly sleeping due to his activity being night related. There was no electricity and she decided it was best if she didn’t wander too far. Abby had to do whatever she could not to draw attention to herself.

When night came, she would wake up and dress. Then she would proceed to unceremoniously crawl and cram her way under the bed. It was up to him to either make sure he let her through. There were some nights when he would forewarn her, but most nights weren’t like that. Instead, she crawled under carefully, unsure of when exactly the floor would open up below her. Some night it hole would open as she was crawling under and she’d tumble down head first. Other nights, it would wait till she was all the way under and she’d end up landing on her stomach and knocking the breath from her body.

Then there were other nights when she overslept. Like tonight. Her body shivered as the temperature in the room dropped. Abby curled up under the thin blanket and her cloak, clenching at it with her thin fingers as the shadows extended around the room.

Her mind wandered to happier thoughts, as if trying to use them to warm her up. It was Craig. Her first, and only, boyfriend. Her aunts had told her that she was too young by their people’s standards for a boyfriend, but she didn’t care. They were just loveless, old hags who didn’t know anything about love. They wanted her to grow up to be like them. Abby wanted to be anything but like them. She liked Craig and he liked her. Not the cold comments from her aunts, not the teasing and whispers around town mattered.

They spent everyday together for the year leading up to her eighteenth birthday. He skipped school to spend his days sitting in the trees with her. Even now, she could see his big green eyes staring down at her lovingly. His warm hands stroking up and down her arms. She stood on her toes to kiss him, but found herself falling forward to her knees instead.

Dark clouds filled the sky as she stood up looking confused. The wind picked up and she heard a mocking laughter through the trees, “Get out of here!” she shouted.

“What a pretty, little dream. Connected to a memory, huh?” it sounded like his voice was coming from every direction. She spun in circles, searching every shadow for him, “Let’s see what happens next, shall we? I bet it’s entertaining.”

“Get out!” she screamed, “It’s none of your business! It’s not a nightmare, so get out!”

“Not a nightmare...yet. We can make it one though. Let’s see...” he went silent for a moment. The tree leaves browned and the air went chill. Snow started to fall and soon, there was a thick layer on the ground. Two outlines of people started to form in front of her. It was Craig and herself.

The images started to become more and more clear and she saw tears running down her own face. She flinched as he came up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders, “How fragile you are,” he commented as her younger self fell to her knees. Her hands reached out and tried to grab Craig’s pant leg, but he kicked her away.

“Witch!” Craig’s voice rang out and her breath hitched as the man behind her gripped her shoulders tightly, “I trusted you! You’re just a filthy witch!”

“Fear isn’t the only thing that feeds me. Pain and misery are wonderful,” he purred into her ear.

Abby’s fists clenched and she turned fast to swing at him. The dream faded and the room appeared around her. His shining eyes were fixed on her as he stood beside her bed. A smug smile crossed his lips as she sat up with a glare, “If you ever...”

“If I what?” he smiled again, “Do what I do best? Do you really think you have any place to tell me what to do? Perhaps next time, you'll wake up on time and I won't have to waste time coming to get you. I do have better things to do,” he folded his hands behind his back and walked a circle around the small room, “Now, get up. You're coming with me tonight.”

Abby was ready to snap at him till he said she was going with him tonight. Up till now, he'd either made her stay down in his caves or stay here in the cabin. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go, so she hadn't fought hard against it, “Really?”

“Yes. Now hurry up.”

Her fingers pulled the thin blanket up against her chest tighter, “Mind buzzing off for a minute? Unless you want to be the creepy, old man that watches girls getting dressed.”

His eyes rolled, “I've told you before, Little Witch, don't flatter yourself.”

“And I told you before, Boogeyman, my name is Abby,” she was getting tired of the patronizing nickname he'd given to her. At least she'd told him her real name. He simply allowed her to call him Boogeyman and hadn't made an effort at any other name for himself. She doubted that was his real name.

“Oh yes. Abby. A name for a powerless, little girl. A childish name. Give me a worthwhile name to call you and I might consider it. Till then, you're just a little witch.”

She hated that smug tone he always had in his voice. It made her hate him more every time he spoke, “Out. Now,” she snapped.

He sighed, “Fine. You have ten minutes,” he ordered as he headed for the door, “Or else.”

“Or else, what?”

“Or else, I'm going to drag you out of here dressed or undressed,” he stated plainly before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

“Prick,” she muttered as she swung her feet over the side of the old bed. It wasn't was if she was indecently dressed, but she didn't feel it was any of his business how she slept.

Some days, it felt like he was treating her like she was his daughter. One time, he'd even made the comment that the neckline of her dress was too far down and made her put a cloak on over herself to cover the slight exposure of cleavage. The last thing she needed was a father figure, but apparently he was going to treat her this way till she proved otherwise. Abby decided that she couldn't let it go on too long. If it did, then it wouldn't matter what she did, he would continue to treat her like a child.

The easy part was proving her ability to survive. Already she'd proven she was willing to die to get free. She'd also proven that she was more than willing of stealing from him to get away too. That even if he could scare her, she could overcome it. What she needed to prove was that she was just as, maybe one day more so, strong as him. That her powers could match his.

With a sigh, she climbed up from the bed and combed her hair with her fingers as she walked over to small chest sitting against the wall. She pulled out and put on the same black dress and cloak she'd been wearing the night of the gathering. And, just to upset him, pulled out the strip of black fabric that held the small, silver bell she'd put on Abastor and wrapped it around her waist like a belt. Abby wouldn't deny that it made her smirk every time his face twisted with annoyance when he heard the little bell chime.

She was putting things into the small pouch that she always brought with her when his dark form appeared from the shadows of the closet, “I told you ten minutes,” he growled lowly.

“And it's only been eight,” she snipped back. Technically, she was done and ready to go, but since he'd decided to bother her, she walked back over to the wooden chest and pulled out a small mirror and her lipstick. She took her time in applying a thick layer of the bright red makeup to her lips.

“You look gaudy,” he sneered, “Wipe that off.”

“No,” she said with a smile, “I like it and you're not my father.”

She heard him inhale deeply, “No. I'm not. Your father was a coward that didn't stand up for his wife or fight to keep his child.”

She capped and threw the lipstick back into the chest before turning to glare at him, “You don't know anything about my father.”

“If you dream it, I know it,” he growled.

“Whatever...” she shook her head, “It's been ten minutes,” she walked past him and headed outside.

He followed soon after and moved to stand in front of her. He put his hands up and two large, black Nightmare steeds appeared from the ground. One kicked it's back feet up and snorted a bit before shaking it's head, “Abastor,” she smiled. Their little fight was forgotten as she walked over and pat the sandy horse on the broad of it's nose. It leaned down and nudged the bell sitting around her waist. Abby wasted no time in unwrapping it from herself and slipping it around the creature's neck.

“I wish you wouldn't do that,” he sneered as he walked past and climbed atop the other nightmare, “It isn't a pet.”

“Of course Abastor isn't a pet,” she said in a babying voice as she nuzzled the beast's face, “He's a handsome, strong, powerful steed of the night. Isn't that right? Yes you are,” she cooed before climbing onto Abastor's back, “You're the strongest and fastest creature the night has ever seen. The moon fears how fast the great and mighty nightmare, Abastor out runs it. Doesn't it, Boy?” she laid out against his back and scratched behind his ears. The horse responded by snorting and stomping it's hooves before shooting up into the air without a single order from it's real master. Abby laughed as she sank her fingers into the sandy mane and held tight.

He was beside them quickly and reached over to grab hold of the reins that she seemed to be refusing to use and jerked tightly, “If you can't behave, I'll lock you in a bird cage,” it was hard to tell if the threat was at her or Abastor. They both seemed to think it was directed at them. Abastor slowed down and galloped properly. Abby sat up right and took the reins away from him.

“...sourpuss...” she muttered under her breath and Abastor snort softly in agreement. The two of them followed behind the Boogeyman. It felt like it was taking hours. She tried to ask several times where they were going, but he either could not hear her or was ignoring her. Abby was willing to bet that it was the later of the two.

It wasn't till they got closer to the ground that she realized that she knew where they were, “What're we doing here?!” she yelled out, knowing full well he could hear her.

“Training,” was the only thing he said as he dove down into the tree covered area just outside of the town.

It was her home. The town where her aunts had raised her. Abby hadn't been back here since Matron came looking for her. It had only been a month, but it felt like forever ago, “I don't think this is a good idea,” she stated as she slid from Abastor's back.

“And what do you know? Nothing. If you want to create fear, misery, and nightmares; then you start with the people you know best. They will be the easiest.”

“So, what? I'm supposed to go around scaring the kids who are already scared of me?” there wasn't a single kid who didn't fear Abby and her aunts around here.

“You're not ready to inflict nightmares on children. They are the hardest to deal with. You're going to start with an easier target,” he started walking towards the houses, “Adults are not frightened the way children are. Nor is their fear all that useful. However, adults have misery and pain that a child can never know,” he looked over his shoulder at her, “At least most children. After all, not many have to see their mother's body being carried from a burning building or watch their father forget that he ever had a child.”

She clenched her fists a bit and bit her tongue to keep from saying anything she might regret, “So, I'm supposed to be scaring some adults? That doesn't sound very interesting.”

“Scaring, no. I think you'd do better with misery and sorrow,” he smiled as he looked up at the sky, “And what a perfect night for it.”

Her eyes followed his and looked up at the sky, “I don't see anything.”

“Exactly. He can't always be watching.”

It took Abby a moment, but she realized what he was talking about. The moon was gone. It was a New Moon tonight, which meant that the moon was gone from the sky. Abby realized that this is what he'd been waiting for. A night when he could bring her out and no one would know, “Oh...” she said softly before noticing that he was already walking well ahead of her. She jogged to catch up, “Where, or who, are we going to?”

“You'll see...” there was that smug tone of voice again that made her want to punch his teeth in.

It was the end of summer and fall was setting in. Even though she was naturally cold, it still felt too cold right now. She knew it was because of him. Everything felt colder and looked darker when he was around. She knew the light had an affect on him. Mostly because any time they got near even a street lamp, the bulb would crackle and then explode. It made her smirk to think how many towns had to replace light bulbs everyday because of him. She doubted any of them would figure out why there were so many 'defective' bulbs. It amazed her the stupidity of the human race sometimes.

They moved silently through the streets, the two steeds following them from above. She could hear the jingle of Abastor's bell every so often. Abby suddenly stopped and he looked back at her, “Come on,” he ordered, but she shook her head, “You're not scare of this street, are you?” to which her only response was a glare and a shake of her head, “Then what's the problem? It couldn't be because a certain someone lives here, could it? Certainly a powerful witch like you wouldn't be hesitating just because of one person. Would you?” but he didn't give her a chance to speak, “Oh, but wait, you're not a powerful witch. You're just a little witch who intends on being one for the rest of her miserable life,” he laughed lightly before walking again.

Abby's fists clenched tight as she forced herself to follow him. It angered her how well he seemed to know her. Did he sneak into her dreams every night just to find things to pick at her about? How else would he know why she didn't want to be here? How else would he know that _he_ lived here? Maybe she should start drinking a dreamless sleep brew. If for nothing else, to keep him out.

They came to a stop outside a townhouse and she glared at him, “Why are you doing this?” she demanded to know.

“Because, you need to learn a lesson. So does he. You're an adult now. You let him crush your heart. Doesn't he deserve some misery too? Doesn't he deserve to know the same feeling you felt?”

Abby knew the human answer was 'no'. That inflicting pain on someone because they had done the same to you was petty and vengeance never the right way to fix things. People always said that taking your anger out on another human, whether it be the one who caused the pain or one who hadn't, never solved anything. But she also knew that those rules didn't apply to everyone. She wasn't human, at least not completely.

There were many stories of how witches came to be and no one, not even their own kind, could pin down an exact origin, but they all did know one thing. They weren't completely human. Some said that light witches came from human women reproducing with heavenly creatures. Others said that dark witches, like herself, came from human women breeding with demons. Abby didn't believe either of those things. For one, she didn't believe in angels or demons. Even the Guardians were angelic or demonic, they had all been human at one point (or at least semi-human).

Whatever their origin really was, it meant they didn't adhere to all human rules of morals and emotions, “Yes. He does.”

“Good. We finally agree on something,” he seemed happy to hear her answer, “Now, close your eyes, Little Witch,” he whispered as he moved behind her. His hands slid over her shoulders and she could feel the icy touch of them even through her cloak and dress. One of his hands moved to pull her hood up and shadow her face, “Just breath and relax,” he spoke softly, “And don't open your eyes till I tell you to.”

Abby was reluctant to do as she was told, but she nodded and let her eyes slip shut. Even as dark was it was with her eyes closed, it seemed like it got darker suddenly. Colder too. She gasped as the ground seemed to fall out from under her feet, but one of his cold hands clasped over her mouth and the other over her eyes to keep her from peeking. She heard awful scratching sounds. There was also movement around them. Like something was flying, flapping large and terrible wings. She reached up to remove the hand over her eyes, but the moment her hand touched his, he removed it and spoke softly, “You can look now.”

They were inside now. She recognized the room. It was Craig's living room. She knew it because of the blanket sitting over the back of the couch. His grandmother had made it before she died when he was little. Abby had only ever been allowed in here when his parents weren't home. She knew they had retired last year and moved to a warmer state. Craig kept the townhouse for now while he attended collage. He shared it with his uncle now. It had been two years since she'd been in here. Even though it still looked mostly the same, she could tell his mother wasn't here anymore. She'd been a neat freak of a woman. She'd never let anyone leave a cup sitting on the coffee table over night.

“How...” she started, but he put a finger over her lips.

“That's for another night. For now...” he pointed towards a door, “Go on,” he ordered.

Abby nodded and walked quietly towards it. She hesitated for a moment before turning the handle and peering inside. She could see two mounds on the bed. It made her chest hurt to know there was another person in the bed with him. Abby knew he'd started seeing someone, but she hadn't realized how serious it was. All she could do was stand there and stare till he came up behind her and spoke so close to her ear that it nearly made her jump, “Are you going to be a Little Witch forever? How can you expect to protect yourself from Matron if you can't even do this?”

She huffed a little before stepping into the room. She couldn't see past the blankets to see what the girl looked like, but she could see him clearly. In the light coming in through the curtains from outside. His hair was longer than it used to be. Other than that, he hadn't changed at all from what she could see. She shook her head a little before looking back at him, “What am I supposed to do?” she whispered.

He smiled and came up next to her, “Don't you see it?”

Abby looked back down at Craig's sleeping form, but she didn't understand, “See what?” she was starting to get worried that they would be in here too long. That he'd wake up and see her standing over him like some kind of deranged stalker.

“His dreams.”

“How am I supposed to see that? I'm not like you. I can't see things like that.”

“No, you're not like me, but you're not like them either,” he motioned towards the bed, “Focus. What are dreams made of?”

“...” Abby shook her head. How was she supposed to know? She knew it was the Sandman who brought dreams. Was his name telling of how he worked? Could it really be that simple, “...sand?”

“Yes. Now, how do dreams feel?”

“...warm. Like the sun on your face.”

“And?” he pressed the matter further.

“I...I don't know...uh...golden?”

“Yessss,” he hissed, “Now focus on that. Focus on the thought of golden sand. Imagine what makes you feel good when you sleep,” that was easier said than done, “See it in him. Imagine his dreams. What they must be like. Children are more creative, but adults are easy. What do you think his dreams are?”

That was somewhat easier, “He wants to be a doctor. He wants to be a well known doctor.”

“He wants to heal people so people will notice him. He wants to save lives to prove his own self worth,” she'd never thought of it that way, but what he said made sense. She'd been fun for him. A break from his perfect image, “Close your eyes and imagine what he must be dreaming of.”

Abby did as he told. Craig was likely dreaming of his future. Of when he was a famous doctor. Lots of money. A big house. Two brand new cars sitting in the drive way. A beautiful, bubbly wife. A son with the name 'junior' attached to it at the end. A daughter who adored him and was the spitting image of her mother. Abby knew him well enough to know those were the kinds of things he wanted in life.

“Now open your eyes and focus.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes and fought the urge to be surprised. Hovering and swirling above the heads of the sleeping forms were clouds of golden sand. Bright and shining. Warm, soft heat radiated off of the clouds. Above the girl, the sand took the form of a ring with a sparkling diamond atop it. An engagement ring. Over Craig's head, it looked like everything she thought it would be. A house, two kids, two cars, a beautiful wife. All of them looking at him adoringly. 

“Does it anger you to see him this way?”

“Yes,” she didn’t even hesitate to admit it. 

“Do you remember how he broke you precious heart?” she nodded, “How you suffered and longed for him?” again, she nodded, her face twisting in sadness and anger. Abby was having a hard time seeing how this was supposed to be helping her in any way, “It’s unfair. You’ve had so much suffering in your life. Your mother and father taken away from you. Being forced to live with aunts who treated you like a child. The closest things you had to friends taken and killed. Now you live in a cold, dark cabin. Alone and helpless. Left to the devices of a man like me. Meanwhile, look how happy he is. He hasn’t earned this happiness. It was handed to him. You doesn’t deserve it. Does he?” one of his hands slipped around her waist and he started to walk her closer to the bed.

“What do I need to do?” she whispered.

“Make him suffer. Destroy his dreams.”

“How?”

His free hand slid down her arm and he raised her hand up. Touching her hand, he reached it out towards the cloud of golden sand, “Think of how much he hurt you. Think of how you can make him feel it too,” her fingertip touched the sand. It swirled and flowed around her finger and felt warm, “Plant the seeds of his misery, Little Witch. Make him suffer as you have.”

Abby’s stomach felt tight. She felt angry and sick at the same time. She wanted Craig to know what it felt like to have someone kick them aside. How could she possibly do that though? It wasn’t like she could make him fail out of school or lose his girlfriend.

As if he were reading her thoughts, he purred into her ear again, “All it takes is a little suggestion. Humans are so fragile. Give him reasons to doubt.”

Swallowing hard, she thought about the things that could make the happy dream he was having be destroyed. The sand started to turn black. Starting from the tip of her finger and slowly spreading outwards till the whole cloud was a swirling mass of black sand, “That’s it, Little Witch. Now make it what you want,” a bit of the sand formed to resemble Craig. Two other bits formed into the girl sleeping beside him and another was a faceless man. The girl and stranger locked their lips together. Below the sand, she could see Craig’s face twist from peaceful sleep into restlessness. 

She smiled and started to reach out to the golden cloud hanging above the girl’s head, but his hand stopped her. He pulled her back a bit, “Not tonight. Let his nightmare fester while she stays happy,” Abby didn’t want to, but he pulled her close and covered her eyes once again. Before she knew it, they were outside again.

“I wasn’t finished,” she protested.

“You need to enjoy your work, Little Witch. Remember, too much of a good thing at once is a bad thing,” she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “He will wake soon. While he cannot see me, he can see you. Let his nightmare turn on him.”

“But it’s just one nightmare,” she wanted to go back, “That’s not enough.”

“No, it’s not. Not even for a child. If it was, I wouldn’t be out here every night. That is why I want you to come here every night and continue to put those thoughts into his mind. Make him suffer. Make him ruin his own life.”

It sounded so simple, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be, “Fine...” though she didn’t want to see Craig again. 

“From now on, and until I say it’s done, you will wake, on time, and spend no less than hour here. Understand?”

Abby didn’t want to agree to it, but she nodded, “Is that all?”

“For now. Once you’ve done that, you are free to do whatever you wish. Now...” he walked close to her, sliding his hand around her waist once more. It felt different this time. He held her close, “How did it make you feel? Being up there? Seeing his dream? Changing it?”

Abby shivered a bit, “Good. Really good.”

“Wonderful. You’re learning, Little Witch.”

“...Abigale.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Abigale.”

Even though she couldn’t see him behind her, but his voice made her think he was smiling, “Very well, Abigale and you may call me...” she wondered if any human had ever heard his name before, “...Pitch.”


End file.
